


Beauty and the Beast

by purplekitte



Category: Warhammer 40.000
Genre: Biting, Light BDSM, M/M, PWP, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 22:49:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17734121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplekitte/pseuds/purplekitte
Summary: To be with a Blood Angel was a study in contrasts.





	Beauty and the Beast

To be with a Blood Angel was a study in contrasts.

On one hand, sensuality. The Blood Angels understood the finer things in life. They were beautiful and surrounded themselves with beauty. They knew the hot touch of skin on skin, lips on lips, bodies sweaty and aching together.

On the other hand, the monster. It was always present beneath the skin, spoiling every moment, every triumph, every joy. The blood was not a conceit for them or a kink, it was an addiction. It was a beast that would rip and tear and kill without mercy or recognition of even a loved one.

Gabriel Seth fought against the heavy chains holding him down in Dante’s bed like a rabid dog. There was no fakery or affectation there--he truly desired to rip Dante’s throat out even if he had to shatter his own bones to do so.

Yet, Dante knew he enjoyed it too. To fight as hard as he could and still lose. To under under his power and forced into submission.

Dante kept his own control iron as he bit his finger until it bled. Seth controlled his curse by letting the rage out and walking the edge of madness all the time. Dante had long since decided that suppressing it was the only way he could live with himself.

‘I’ll kill you, you bastard,’ Seth spat as a single drop of blood dripped onto his lips, then another. Dante used his fangs again to undo the work of his enhanced healing. Seth licked up the blood ravenously, helplessly.

‘Will you now?’ Dante asked him sweetly. ‘Are you sure you don’t want more first?’

‘Of course I do. Bastard.’

Dante, kneeling between his spread legs, moved his hand down and massaged the thick, straining muscle of Seth’s thigh. He left a smear of blood behind and leaned down to lap the stain away daintily. Seth cursed and struggled. ‘You’ll have to tell me in more words what you want from me.’

‘Fucking pompous bastard, thinking you’re better than the rest of us because you look like the angel. At least I know my monster, because it’s me. I’ll eat your fucking hearts. I’ll drain the blood from your veins and crack the marrow from your bones.’ Dantes waited, smiling just enough to enrage Seth as he enjoyed himself in turn. He would never do this with a Blood Angel from his own Chapter. They were too in awe of him and would be honoured to submit to him without a fight. No like the Lord of the Flesh Tearers, who always challenged him. ‘Fuck me already, you fucking tease. Stab me open and pound me bloody. The hell do you think I want from you?’

‘Good boy.’ Dante stroked Seth’s scarred, muscled chest like he would pet a dog. He leaned up to run his teeth over his neck. He savoured the taste of the Flesh Tearer’s sweat, the beat of blood under his skin.

‘So kinky. You tease at it, but you won’t drink from me because you don’t trust yourself not to rip out my throat. Yet you’re more in control than I am.’

‘You point yourselves at things you can kill without restraint so control does not matter.’

Seth shrugged. ‘Pragmatism. I am what I am.’

‘I won’t take your blood, but I suppose I can take other parts of you,’ Dante said, magnanimous. Seth gave the impression of rolling his eyes while still twisting to try and bite him.

With a warrior’s speed and decisiveness, Dante put his wrist to Seth’s lips and shoved in between his legs. Seth hissed with pain at being so roughly entered, but he didn’t try to pull away, if the chains binding him had had that much give. After a moment he recovered and savaged Dante’s arm, tearing away chunks of skin and muscle to feed messily on the lifeblood within.

Dante’s control frayed between the pleasure and the pain, the smell of his own blood from his wrist and Seth’s blood leaking down his thighs from internal tearing. He did not let it go. He channelled it into fucking Seth harder, burying himself into the tight heat of him with brutal thrusts. Seth roared in exaltation at the violence of it, how good it felt to be used this way by someone who (in his mind) was worthy.

Drunk on blood and delicious friction, Seth came against his stomach. Dante did not let up until Seth was limp under him, sucking at the wound in his arm with hardly a scrape of fang. Only then did he let himself spill inside him and fall against his chest.

Dante wrapped an arm around the back of Seth’s neck, letting him continue to feed the hunger that would never be sated. Fangs occasionally scraped the bone of his mangled arm, but it would heal without trouble. ‘Must you cuddle afterwards?’ Seth grumbled.

‘I insist, Gabriel. I’m not untying you yet, but I could always muzzle you.’

Seth grunted and didn’t look at him, but the coil of anger within him unwound, just a little, for just a moment.


End file.
